Texas Roadhouse
by PersonWhoWritesStuff
Summary: Mickey has a phobia that Ian's just learning about.


"Come on," Ian got out of the car and walked toward the building, glancing back to make sure Mickey was following him, "this place is my favorite-I can't believe you've never eaten here!"

Mickey rolled his eyes. Ian shouldn't be _that_ surprised, he only ever went out to restaurants with him.

"They have the best steak here," Ian babbled on, "I swear you'll love it."

It was clear he was excited to share this place with Mickey, which actually made Mickey a little excited to be here. Though he tried not to show it too much.

He looked up at the bright glowing red sign. _Texas Roadhouse._ He'd heard of it before, but had never been here. All he knew about it was that they served steaks that Ian was crazy about, and probably had some kind of country theme going on.

Suddenly he stopped as a thought dawned on him.

Ian walked ahead a bit before he realized Mickey wasn't beside him, and turned around with a raised eyebrow. "You forget something?"

Mickey chewed on his lip, figuring out how to word his question properly. "There's not like-Are there any, like, you know, dead animals in there?"

Ian looked confused but chuckled, "Well, yeah, Mick, it's a steakhouse-what did you think we'd be eating?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "I mean, like, hanging on the walls," he said impatiently.

He looked even more confused. "_Dead animals hanging on the walls?"_

"Fuck-You know what I mean! Like when they stuff them for decoration, you know? Moose heads and shit . .."

Ian just shrugged. "Oh. I don't know. . ."

"You don't know?" Mickey snapped, "I thought you've been here a million fucking times!"

"Well-yeah I don't remember every little thing they have for decoration, though!" He took a step toward the entrance, "Look-why does it matter, can we just go in?"

Mickey stayed where he was. "Just fucking tell me if they have any moose heads or anything!"

"I don't know! Maybe!" Ian took another step toward the building, "Let's just go in and see!"

Mickey was getting pissed off. He hated how no one understood this. He couldn't just _go in and see_, he had to fucking _know_ if there was some kind of stuffed dead animal hanging up in there. It was fucking stupid that Gallagher _didn't_ know, even though he's been here so many goddamn times. Mickey didn't want to go in until Ian told him what was in there, but he wasn't about to explain _why_ he needed to know. This problem he had always made him feel so stupid and childish.

He looked at Ian's annoyed face.

That was what made him feel especially childish. Like he was having to be dragged into a restaurant.

Finally he told himself to suck it up, and not be a pussy. He was going to go in there, and he was going to be a normal patron. He wasn't going to have a problem this time. He'd just take a breath and be a man. Otherwise Ian would just get pissed at him for ruining the night.

"Whatever," he mumbled, and finally took a step forward.

Ian still looked confused, but seemed satisfied now, as he walked up into the little lobby.

Mickey walked into the lobby just as Ian walked into the restaurant. He hesitated in the lobby a bit, looking through the windows. Everything seemed to be clear as far as he could see, so he opened the door and took about half a step inside. Ian was already at the counter, asking for seating for two, and it was bugging Mickey that he wasn't back by Mickey's side. He suddenly felt really exposed where he was standing, but took a full step into the building anyway.

Then he glanced up.

Above him was a giant, hairy moose head, with antlers that could each easily be the size of a child.

He wasn't thinking as his body reacted, and he stepped backwards into the lobby. His heart was racing and had suddenly become a lot harder trying to breath. He let the door swing shut and backed up all the way into the opposite wall of the lobby. Through the window he saw Ian suddenly look around until he spotted Mickey standing in the lobby. He said something to the waitress at the counter before walking back into the lobby.

He looked pissed-as if Mickey were purposefully acting this way to ruin their night-but his face quickly changed, as he saw the expression on Mickey's.

"Uh... what's up?" He asked slowly.

Mickey tried to harden his features. "I'm fine!" He snapped. "I just-I feel more like a pizza tonight, okay?"

"Jesus, Mickey, just tell me what's going on."

"I. Want. Pizza." He repeated stubbornly. "Can we just go?"

"I've been looking forward to this all fucking week, and suddenly you want pizza!" Ian nearly yelled, "What the fuck's your problem? We've been out together before-"

"It's not that," Mickey stopped him before he could voice his stupid theory on why he was acting like this. He was almost a little offended by it-Mickey was a lot better about going out with Ian these days. He'd stopped complaining about having a "date night," at least three times a month, almost over a year ago, and actually kind of looked forward to them now.

"There's a moose head above the door," he then said quietly.

"Yeah, so?"

Mickey shrugged defensively. "I don't like them."

Ian rolled his eyes. That was the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "You _don't like them_?"

"No! Okay? I don't fucking like those things!"

"But ... it's _dead_, Mickey," he said with a laugh, "what do you think-it's gonna come alive and charge at you or something?"

That was what always pissed him off the most. _No_, he did _not_ think the moose was going to come alive. In fact, he'd feel better if it were alive. It wasn't that he gave a shit about the moose or anything, really. He wouldn't care if every moose on the planet dropped dead right then. He just always had a problem with animals that had been stuffed and hung up on walls.

He could stand some smaller animals, like birds, rodents, foxes, or even deer, but he had to know where they were in the room first. If he saw one when he wasn't expecting it, he would probably jump at first, but he could always eventually relax around the smaller ones.

Moose, on the other hand, were a different story. He couldn't breath if there was a stuffed moose head around-or anything as big like steer, buffalo, or bears.

The first time he saw a moose head, he was seven, and his dad had taken him to one of the guys from the gun club's house. Luckily his dad didn't give him too much shit for freaking out a little, since he was only seven, and just made him sit outside on the porch.

He could barely sleep for a week after, constantly thinking there was a moose head hanging up on the wall above his bed.

Even at seven he knew it was a stupid fear to have, but he always figured he'd grow out of it. He never did.

Rather than answering Ian, he just turned and stormed out of the lobby and back toward the car.

He got in the passenger's side, and slammed the door. He was still pissed at Ian for making fun of him, but he felt guilty more than anything. This stupid, childish problem that he had was ruining something that Ian had been really excited for.

Ian didn't follow him out to the car right away, and Mickey was starting to wonder if he was actually pissed enough to still be sitting in there, eating without him.

Finally after the twenty longest minutes of his life, he heard the back door on the driver's side open, and Ian set something on the back seat. Then he got in the front, and started the car.

Mickey didn't look up at him. He couldn't look up at him. He felt so stupid. He wanted to hit something.

"Sorry that took so long," Ian finally said.

He was taken aback by Ian's tone. He actually didn't sound pissed at all.

"You're supposed to call first when you want to order something to-go, so it took it a little longer." He continued, as if that had been their plan the whole time.

Mickey finally did glance up at Ian. His eyes were on the road, but he was clearly looking guilty about something.

After a moment, he said, "Look, I didn't mean... I shouldn't have said what I said-"

"Whatever, man, it doesn't matter." Mickey said quickly.

Ian didn't say anything more, but kept glancing at Mickey.

He could tell Ian wanted answers, but didn't want to upset him by asking. He sighed. "I just don't like when they have animals hanging up on the walls like that-the taxidermy ones. They freak me out. Especially moose... I know it's stupid-I mean it doesn't happen really with deer or smaller animals-just-whatever. Yeah, it's stupid." His voice faded out toward the end.

Ian hesitated before asking, "It's just taxidermy...? Like living animals are fine?"

"Yeah," he muttered. Then he spoke up, "But I mean, it's not like I give a shit about the animal or anything. I don't care that it's dead."

Ian nodded, and Mickey could tell that this was something he was just going to accept.

Finally, Ian pulled into some abandoned parking lot, unbuckled, and reached for the bag in the back seat. He handed Mickey one of the to-go boxes. "It was actually pretty crowded in there anyway."

Mickey still didn't exactly feel validated. "I know it's weird..."

Ian shook his head. "I don't care. I mean, you have to kill every spider in the apartment for me so..."

"Everyone and their mom hates spiders," he said, rolling his eyes, "_I'm_ the only one who can't even go into a fucking restaurant."

"I doubt it," Ian said, "you can't possibly be the only person in the world."

"There's not even a word for it."

Ian then pulled out his phone and started typing something. After a moment, he said, "Okay, you're right, there isn't really a word for it-but look there's a site where it's just a bunch of people talking about how they have the same problem."

He handed Mickey his phone, and grabbed the now empty to-go boxes, stepping out the car to throw them in a near by trash can. When he got back in the car, Mickey was still absorbed in his phone. He was on it the whole way back to the apartment, finally handing it back as they got out of the car.

"See? It's not weird, just uncommon."

Mickey didn't say anything, but Ian knew he was feeling better.


End file.
